It Had to be You
by youaretrulybrilliant
Summary: Nothing was going according to plan, college was not supposed to be like this. So why then was Derek of all people, the only one who seemed to get her to pull it together?
1. An Unexpected Encounter

_Life with Derek does not belong to me, never has and never will. :(_

* * *

She stared down at the small piece of paper in her hands, forgetting about the busy world around her for once. It was an innocent small pink slip that the wind had picked up and blown into her lap. Casey had been enjoying the cool autumn afternoon, trying to focus on her reading for her women in writing class, but it seemed that Mother Nature had other plans for her.

It was a notice about the classical ballet class opening up some more spots. It didn't matter that it was almost Halloween, apparently if there were experienced dancers wanting to jump in, they could. Casey felt a longing prick her instantly. It had been months since she had spent a good length of time in her dance shoes. She had tried to fit a dance class into her schedule when she originally registered for classes but between all her required classes, and her new job at a local coffee shop, her colored coded schedule simply didn't have time for it. Besides this was the adult world now and she couldn't afford to think about fanciful dancing dreams.

Derek had laughed hysterically at her, calling her a keener for being the most organized freshman to ever grace Queens, but Casey had just sniffed haughtily at him. It wasn't her fault that he couldn't see how important it was to start their college life off on the right start. If she wanted to get into graduate school after her undergrad there was no way she could afford to mess up.

He just rolled his eyes and starting going on about her becoming the crazy cat lady one day to which Casey responded with clever insult about him living up to everyone's expectations of being the worst college student and how he would never get anywhere in the world when he managed to flunk out of university.

Casey winced at the memory, clutching the paper a bit tightly in her hand, gathering her things, and heading towards the library. It was starting to get cold out and the quiet, peace of the library stacks were calling to her. Derek had been livid at that comment, his eyes narrowing to slits and Casey laughed at him for the rest of the evening when he didn't return with a comeback. She hadn't laughed the next morning; Derek somehow had managed to string her underwear, including her really expensive lingerie, across the phone lines. She all but throttled him, it took the combined effort of Edwin and Lizzie to pull the two of them apart and shove them into the car to leave for school.

It had been a deathly quiet drive to Queens.

And that was the last time she had seen Derek, thank God.

Her only contact with home was her calls to Nora and Lizzie but even those were few and far between. Just because Casey had molded herself into the model student, didn't mean anything else in her life was playing out like the movie she imagined college to be. In fact life was nothing like she thought it would be or like any movie had ever portrayed it; her roommates flat out ignored her despite all her attempts to be friends with them, guys were still the jerks they were in London, working in the coffee shop barely covered her living expenses, and she never had time to go out with friends. Then again that would require having friends to begin with.

She tried talking to Emily multiple times, but they ended up playing the infamous game of phone tag for so long that Casey gave up trying to call her. She didn't want Nora to know anything was out of place either because her mom kept gushing over how well her marks were and how proud she was of Casey. She was pretty sure Lizzie knew something was off but Casey covered it up by constantly making Lizzie talk about her own life instead.

It's not that Casey didn't want her family to know, it was more that she was on her own now and she was supposed to this independent woman and to do it all by herself. At least that was what she kept telling herself each night as she went home after a long day and tried to drown out the sounds of her roommates laughing in the other room together or used her pillow to block out the sounds of the couple moaning loudly upstairs. People weren't kidding when they said sounds carry in apartments, so gross.

Which all lead back to the piece of paper in her hands-the dance class. Oh, she wanted to dance again. Casey itched to pull out her overstuffed and color coded planner and see if she could fit in the dance class. She sighed stuffing the paper into her pocket and shaking herself, walking with more purpose towards the library. No, she couldn't, she had the planner memorized anyway, and there wasn't any more time to fit on her schedule.

If Derek was there she was sure he would yank hard on hair and call her a grade grubber. Casey found herself wishing to see his face again, or even a chance to yell at him. She stopped in her tracks just outside the library door with that thought. Had she really just wished to see Derek? As in Derek Venturi, the bane of her existence and forced upon step-brother? What the hell was wrong with her? She was living a Derek free life and-

"Ouch," she muttered painfully suddenly realizing her body was smashed into the ground, a heavy weight sprawled out on top of her.

"What the hell? It's a door, people walk through them, not stop in front of them," an angry voice, sounded from above, muffled by her coat.

Casey tensed immediately, speak of the Devil and he shall appear she swore regretfully to herself. Apparently he recognized her too, flying off her instantly.

"Casey?"

"Thanks a lot Derek," she snipped back.

Casey pulled herself off the ground, wincing in pain, and noticed her hands, scraped and bleeding with bits of gravel shoved into her skin. She swung her head towards him, glaring at him. He was staring opened mouth at her.

"What the hell happened to you?" he asked.

Casey stiffened, and felt all her anger for him instantly boiling within her. "I don't know Derek, maybe you should watch where you are going, so innocent people don't end up bleeding," she hissed.

Derek snapped his mouth shut, a smug grin shifting over his face instantly.

"Sorry Klutzilla, but I do believe I'm the innocent one in this," he gestured towards himself, "You're the one who doesn't know how doors work. Remind me again how you managed to get accepted into college?"

Casey bit her tongue and whipped around, not even wanting to dignify his insult with a response. Her hands clenched tightly into a fist, but she immediately released them when the sting of her wounds sent white hot pain up her arm.

God, she hated him. It was always his fault.

She cautiously closed her hands again, moving to grab the door handle but it appeared Derek had other ideas and grabbed her wrist and practically dragged her to a nearby benched and shoved her onto it roughly.

"Just what to do you think you're doing?" she shouted.

She was incensed by his actions but she didn't fail to notice the rush of energy pumping through her veins; she hadn't felt this good in ages. How did he manage to perk her up?

Wait, _what_?

Derek growled at her, before grabbing her hands and forcing them open. "I'm trying to look at your hands, princess."

"Don't call me that."

"Then stop acting like one, _your highness_. Can't a guy try to help?"

"Your highness- back up. Did you just say the word help?"

Derek responded by painfully digging a piece of gravel.

"Der-ek! Could you-,"she started but he cut her off.

"Hell woman, can't you accept anything?" he snapped back.

Casey rolled her eyes and swore under her breath.

"I heard that, didn't think you had it in you."

She let out a sigh of exasperation. Never did she imagine their first greeting since the start of school to play out like this, but then again it was them. And one thing was certain with Casey and Derek, they wrote their own book of rules.

They fell into silence, Casey trying not to wince as Derek pulled out piece by piece the rock and debris in her skin. She didn't even realize until then how bad the cuts actually were on her palms, the jagged skin, torn and bleeding all over the place.

She felt the urge to say something so she wouldn't focus on the blood flowing from her hand, or that stained his fingertips.

"So….what were you even doing going into the library?" she asked.

Derek stopped and glanced up at her with a smirk, "Something about this hot blonde and her knowing all the unused stacks on the second floor."

"Uhm, gross," she shot back.

_Why had she expected anything different? _

Derek smiled mockingly, "I have a test tomorrow, Case."

She just about jerked her hands out of his in shock.

"Wait, did Derek Venturi just admit to actually caring about his education?"

Derek's head was bent back over his work, but she could practically hear his eye roll.

"If I want my hockey scholarship to stick, gotta have the grades to back it up," he said with a shrug.

"Wow, I should have recorded that and labeled it as a miracle. I can't believe I just witnessed that. Maybe university was the best thing to happen to you."

Derek arched a brow, "You tell anyone and I'll unleash all my best pranks out on you."

"Oh please, like you have anything new left."

Derek eyed her with a mischievous grin, "McDonald, I haven't even begun to unveil half of my pranks on you and I lived with you for three years already. Besides it doesn't look like you could even keep up with me if I did and well it wouldn't be fun then would it?"

Casey glowered, "What does that even mean?"

Derek's face faltered for a minute and Casey swore she watched a measure of pain flicker across his face before his standard Venturi smirk settled.

"You look like hell, princess. A bit obvious you've not been getting your beauty rest; then again you could go Rip Van Winkle on me and still not look good."

"Why you little-" she screeched at him, yanking her hands out of his to smack him.

Derek was up and bounding into the library, laughing before she could reach him. She viciously followed him but the death glare from the head librarian at the entrance desk stopped her. Casey huffed angrily realizing Derek disappeared somewhere amongst the hundreds of stacks and therefore out her clutches.

She growled under her breath, the man infuriated her. She wanted to pummel his head in or better yet claw his eyes out, or both. Yeah, both sounded good. Her hands clenched in on themselves and Casey winched in pain. Glancing back down, she noticed the wounds were completely clean and bandaged. _When did Derek do that?_

Casey let out a tired sigh. Derek was right, she did look like hell. That was the reason she hadn't been to visit home yet. Maybe also the reason she might have avoided any place that she knew Derek could possibly be. But she would never admit that in a hundred years.

Casey had lost weight, a dangerous amount of weight. She couldn't hold down food it seemed anymore. She would just start to think about all the work she constantly had to do and anything she ate just came back up. She had even stopped cooking, much to her roommates' disappointment. They ignored her more after that trend started. The bags under her eyes couldn't hide under make up anymore. Her hair or nails hadn't been done in weeks; the blonde highlights gone and her dark brown hair back in place. She avoided mirrors at all costs and shopping for new clothes was out of the question. Shopping would mean admitting that there was a problem and she refused to do that.

She was Casey McDonald, an independent woman who knew how to live away from home and be on her own. Casey stuffed her hands in her pockets, reciting that mantra over and over again, willing it to be true. Reaching her self-appointed study cubby she tossed her books down and pulled out her women in writing study notes again, determined to focus in on her notes and forget everything else.

But her fingers brushed over the piece of paper in her pocket again and subconsciously she pulled it out. The stupid piece of pink paper, talking about ballet stared up at her. Casey once again let her eyes glaze over as she tried to remember how happy she was when she danced and how much she wanted to reclaim that thrill again. For a brief moment she felt like everything was okay again, that the stress of school and being on her own didn't bother her.

Oh, who the hell was she kidding? Casey dropped the paper on the desk and buried her head in her arms. She was miserable, she had never been so miserable before in all her life. She felt her chest heave, tears swimming in her eyes.

"You know you should go for the dance class, dance always made you smile."

Casey jerked her whole body upwards towards the sound, the sight of Derek standing there with his hands shoved in his pockets throwing her off balance. He pulled a hand out and pointed to the piece of now crumpled paper on her desk. Casey gaped at him in confusion trying to understand what was going on.

Derek looked at her sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck before disappearing again. Casey furrowed her brow, staring at the spot Derek had just occupied. It was just too much at that moment, between the bizarre encounter with Derek for the first time in months, the stress of homework, and everything else that seemed to be wrong that day, Casey just placed her head back in her arms and cried.

* * *

Well this is my first foray into Life with Derek so we'll see how this goes. :)


	2. Damn Her

As always, LWD is not mine.

* * *

Derek shot the puck with extra vehemence towards the goal. The small black object slid into the goal box and out just as rapidly, the action doing nothing to soothe Derek's temper. Stopping with an abrupt halt, his skates dug into the ice spraying shavings everywhere. He ripped off his helmet and gloves throwing them onto the ice. The crisp air of the arena breezed across his face, making his sweaty hair stick to his head annoyingly. He was beyond frustrated.

Two days, it had been two days since his run in with Casey at the library and suddenly he couldn't get her out his mind and he hated it. He tried forgetting her by immediately calling Marissa after his attempted study session at the library. He was trying to do the school thing, okay? College algebra wasn't his favorite subject, but he did not need to give Coach Epps any reason to breathe down his neck and bench him, so actually doing well in class was necessary.

Marissa had provided some relief that evening, but the moment she skipped out his room, hair and clothes still a bit disheveled after all their activities with promises of the things she would do to him tomorrow, Derek found himself waving her off with false interest. Casey's face kept popping into his head all night and effectively ruined the evening for him. She always seemed to be able to ruin a perfectly good moment.

Damn her.

Life had been perfect without Casey around, two months of bliss with no nagging, no piercing screams of his name being split into two definitive parts across the house, no lectures about his lack of respect for well anything, and he liked it. He was finally able to walk around and live his life like he wanted with no over-bearing, neurotic step-sister watching his every move. It had taken him awhile to erase her from his mind and all it took was one encounter to have her completely invade every thought and fiber of his being.

Even more nerving-wracking was the f-word had cropped into his mind. He was _feeling_ again. Casey prided herself on looking immaculate, being in control, having to prove she was absolute freaking perfect at everything. It was the most annoying thing on the planet. Somehow though he never seemed to be able to stop himself from finding ways to provoke that spark, it was like some subconscious need. But that insane spark of just Casey was completely absent when he saw her the other day and it was scaring him. It took a sum total of one glance at her face to feel everything again. Derek picked up his gloves and helmet and smashed them back on, determined the kill the puck some more.

Life was simple on the ice; nothing existed but the puck and the goal. Here he was a god and knew exactly how to move around people, how to bounce off his teammates, and sink the puck into the goal. It was the greatest feeling in the world and any time he needed to simplify his life, the ice was his haven. Life outside of hockey? Life with Casey in it? Not simple at all. Nope, the real world was full of feelings and attractive step-sisters that made complicated messes out of his life plans.

"What the hell is eating you, dude?" a concerned voice broke Derek out of imagining Casey's face on the puck.

Derek rolled his eyes before turning around, it was James. Of course it was his James. His roommate, who was honestly his best friend most of the time, could be such a girl. Derek blamed it on James' girlfriend, Amy, who was the self-appointed hockey mom of the whole college team.

"Not now, James," he grunted finally conceding defeat for the day. He gave the puck a last good whack, watching an imaginary Casey screaming on it.

James skated over and did his best to stare down Derek. Derek just arched his brow, the look not even fazing him. As if anyone could stare him down, well Casey did once or twice, but she was the only one.

"You've been walking around like a pissy two-year old for the past forty-eight hours and whining like a girl. Marissa came by today and you ignored her. The Derek Venturi I know would never turn down a hot body for crazy sex. Hence the-what's eating you question, now spill."

Derek sheepishly glanced over at his friend, as they reached the sides of the rink.

"I saw Casey," he mumbled almost inaudibly.

James did a double take for a minute before biting down on his lip in contemplation. Derek was already trying to ignore the statement, there was a reason he didn't talk about things, it meant people getting worried over him and he hated looking weak. He was a Venturi and Venturis don't do weak. He hoped the statement was enough and his roommate would leave it alone.

Yeah, James obviously didn't care about that. Instead his roommate clapped Derek hard on the shoulder, "Say no more," he said a bit too brightly, "Amy cooked lasagna tonight, come over and taste perfection."

Derek smirked, nodding begrudgingly. Amy's lasagna was almost as good as Casey's. A full stomach of good cooking was exactly what he needed. See, life simplified. He tried to push the image of Casey from his mind and focus strictly on melted cheese and meaty red sauce filling layers of pasta. Or maybe it was just to do anything to stop James from asking any more questions.

The blissful promise of good food carried him all the way until he and James reached Amy's apartment. He had never expected to be friends with someone like James and Amy so fast, but everyone on the team knew Amy's apartment and more importantly her cooking. All the guys seemed to drift through at least once. He smirked at the petite woman, her dark hair and tanned skin showing off her Cree heritage.

"So when you going to ditch James, and jump into my bed?" he cooed as way of greeting.

Amy rolled her eyes, "Please, one person in this room gets the title of sex god and it isn't you."

Derek stopped placing a hand over his heart in mock pain while James wore a smug grin.

"Oh please, you just not willing to take the chance because you know I'll be better," Derek mocked before laughing at Amy's blanched face and James' frown.

"Sit down and eat before I retract my offer of good food," Amy replied shortly.

Derek grumbling, slide into his chair mumbling about the two of them not being able to take a joke; he didn't want that perfect lasagna to be taken from him. Someone would have to be insane to turn down free lasagna. He made a mental note to hang out with Geoff and some of the other single guys more. Derek could vaguely remember them talking about a new club they were going to be scouting out after the next game.

The looks James and Amy kept tossing each other kept him from trying remember the name of the club. Derek was attempting to not groan at loud, this is why he didn't date, stupid eye conversations. They were talking about the Leafs latest victory in great detail but Derek sensed it was all filler talk. Maybe if he ignored it, they'd get the hint and stop whatever they working up too. Casey at least would come right out and ask him things.

Exasperated Derek put down his fork, after he made sure his plate was completely clean and belly filled, and said, "If I was going to keel over and die I would just do it. If you keep looking at me like that, I will. Stop it. There are too many ladies out there who haven't had the privilege of meeting me yet, don't rob them of their dreams."

Amy's eyes narrowed into dangerous black slits. It was her dangerous look that sent the team, or any sane person running for the hills. Derek had encountered that look once before and it hadn't turned out pretty. He twirled his fork with a nervous energy. The sudden thought that if Amy and Casey were ever friends, nothing on earth would be safe. He should have known James' offer of lasagna wouldn't be without a catch.

"No, no way, I'm not letting you play Dr. Phil again," he said.

Amy opened her mouth determined, "Casey, eh?"

Derek shot a glare at James who didn't even have the gall to look the least bit ashamed, instead his roommate was wearing the same look as Amy. Derek groaned internally, there was no way the pair of them would let him leave until they got what they wanted from him.

"You see this is why I never talk about things, you two gang up on me. It's not even a big deal," he said overdramatically rolling his eyes and waving his hands. "What game is on tonight? I want to ignore the essay I have to write for economics before I go home for the night."

"Derek."

He suddenly wished that it was Casey saying his name with that spilt way of hers. She always looked so alive when she said it. _Dude, what was wrong with him_? Casey was almost in every other thought of his. He ignored his friends and plopped down on Amy's couch, flipping on the TV trying to find something. James and Amy rolled their eyes from their positions but didn't move. If Derek was going to tell them anything, they couldn't push it.

Derek sighed after flipping through the whole cycle of channels for the fifth time. The foreboding silence from the duo still at the kitchen table was bearing down on him. He pulled out his phone and contemplated whether or not he should call Marissa. His fingers hovered over the keys pads, Casey's face pressing on his mind. He forgot about Marissa.

"She looked sick."

Amy and James shot up, having bent forward on the table while waiting. James recovered first.

"How bad?"

Derek scrunched his face, "Bad."

The nasty gnawing in his gut renewed feverishly, the feeling that had been plaguing him since his run in at the library. _Guilt._ He hated feeling guilty more than anything else when it came to Casey; because it usually led him doing something obnoxiously nice and forgetting that she was his step-sister.

Damn her.

The stupid guilty feeling that made him pause the other day, right before he stopped at an empty desk for studying. His feet were looking for her before his mind could even process what he was doing. It wasn't hard to find her, and when he did she was sitting in the desk looking at a pink piece of paper in her hands with the most wistful look in her eyes. It was the one she got any time she started talking about dancing. Her big eyes would glaze over with this faraway expression making the blue of her eyes shine brighter than ever. Being the stupid guy that he was, he fell for them, hook, line, and sinker.

He found himself opening his mouth and speaking to her before he could even stop his brain. Stupid, stupid, stupid-he didn't even remember what he said to her now. Derek was pretty sure it included the words dancing and smiling. Jeez, Casey turned him into such a sap. He remembered her brow crinkled in confusion, before settling to stare at him intensely. That was his cue to get the out of there as fast as possible before he said, or _did_, anything else.

Now two days later and he still couldn't get her off his mind-between the scariness of how much weight she lost, and the absence of the spark in her, he was so confused he didn't know what to do. This is why he didn't do feelings; they were confusing, frustrating, and almost always linked back to Casey.

"Screw it," he muttered darkly.

Nodding to Amy and James, he quickly left the apartment picking up his phone and dialing Marissa's number.

"Hey babe, what do you need this late at night?" came a nasally voice on the line.

Derek forced a smile on his face and let his voice drop into a husky level, "Remember all you promised to do me the other night?"

Marissa replied with a soft giggle, "Oh I think I can remember. But I might need some help after not seeing you today."

"How about I help you remember right now and add some more things to that to do list?" he teased.

He could practically hear Marissa dragging her roommate out of the room, telling her she needed the apartment for the night. He clicked the phone off when she breathed, "See you in five."

Derek closed his eyes and tried to focus on Marissa's eyes. He grinned when he remembered that they were green and not blue. _Thank god. _

There was no way he wanted anything to remind him about Casey, not tonight. Tonight was going to be simple. He'd worry about Casey tomorrow.

* * *

A/N: Hello, I just wanted to say _thank you_ for your kind reviews and follows. I did want to say that while I love LWD and the fact that it was a fantastic sitcom, this story is more real world and not as lighthearted in some aspects. So just an FYI.


	3. You aren't Healthy

LWD is still not mine.

* * *

Something was beeping, jarring Casey from a peaceful oblivion. Slowly letting her eyes come into focus Casey realized it was her alarm clock. Not quite willing to leave the cocoon of the comforter, she titled her head towards the alarm. It kept flashing 7:30am on the screen.

Her sleep addled mind was trying to place exactly why her alarm was going off. As her brain processed the sound, she reached out to stop it. But apparently she wasn't fast enough, her bedroom slamming open, rattling the pictures of her family on the wall. A very irritated Jenn stood in the doorway, holding a fluffy cream towel around her and a toothbrush in her mouth. With a look that would scare most people, Casey watched her stride over and smash the alarm clock furiously.

"Hey there is no need for that. I was getting up," Casey snapped, her brain waking instantly. She always hated violence.

Jenn glowered at her, "It's been going off for an hour. What is wrong with you? Can't you take care of it yourself instead of waking the whole damn house? I need an hour of silence to get my body ready for the day."

Casey huffed and watched Jenn stomp out the room, slamming the door on her way out. Her roommates were the worst; they only seemed to pay attention to Casey when she did something to annoy them. Except they didn't prank her like Derek did when she annoyed him, they were a whole other kind of vindictive. Casey sat up and looked at the clock again, finally realizing why her clock was wrong—she had slept in for an hour. Her first class started in less than thirty minutes.

Flying from her bed, stripping her pajamas as she went, she groaned when she looked at the window. Everything she could see was a wall of gray and white. Great, the snow this thick in the morning would mean the return of klutzilla, which meant taking more time to get to class. Casey looked down at her desk and saw her homework from last night. She had fallen asleep doing her homework and hadn't finished. She couldn't believe it, not only was she late, there was snow, and she hadn't finished her homework for a class.

Bile filled her mouth in panic, making her body lurch in queasiness. She could feel heart race dangerously fast. Desperately ignoring her body, Casey grabbed her thick sweater and jabbed it over her head, the action making her dizzy. Her whole body swayed, forcing her to grab the desk chair. She yanked the sweater off her head, hoping her body would cool down with no shirt on.

_Please, not now._

She felt her chest heave, her breasts pressing painfully against her cotton bra. The room started to spin and colors invert. Casey dropped to the floor to put her head between her knees to stop the onslaught of nausea. It was almost daily routine by now. Clenching her eyes and wishing the pain stop, her mind drifted to her homework.

How did she forget her homework? She never forgot her homework, she was the perfect student, always had everything done the day it was assigned and arrived to class early to ensure it was turned in with no issues. How did she mess up? She had it marked in bright blue in her planner for five days. It was like she turned into Derek and forgot about it.

Casey's mind couldn't stop its frantic train of thought, working herself into a classic Casey melt down. The once abating nausea returned making spots dance behind her eyes and her stomach jerk. She couldn't hold it in. Grabbing her trash bin from beneath her desk, Casey vomited until there was nothing else left.

Slowly Casey slumped to the ground, pressing her head against the freezing wood, praying the shock of cold would force her to stop. She didn't bother to stop the tears on her face or the shivers of her half naked body, it hurt too much. Her eyes drifted shut to block out the pain.

"Casey?" a voice asked.

Casey jerked up, throwing her arms out in surprise almost smacking the girl bending over her. Blonde curly hair meant Cameron, her actual roommate.

"What happened?" Casey groaned. She grabbed her forgotten sweater and pulled it over her trembling body, doing her best to ignore the ache in her bones as she moved.

"I don't know, you tell me? You got sick again," Cameron shrugged tiredly, already shedding clothes to climb into bed.

Casey noticed the garbage bin was empty and cleaned. Cameron must have done it. While Cameron wasn't vicious like their other roommates, she worked nights at the hospital meant no contact with Casey. Casey figured that this was maybe the seventh time she had seen the girl the whole term.

She glanced at the clock and saw it read a little after ten. Her eyebrows shot through her hairline; she slept through class, _both_ of them. She bit her lip to stop a full blown scream from escaping. Instead she opted for muttering every expletive she could think of under breath as she started, again, to get dressed. Derek would have been proud of her creative usage. There were professors to apologize too, notes to get from someone, not to mention going over the reading material again, begging the French Literature professor to take her homework late, and then all the studying she would need to do after.

Her head started to swim. _Again? How much more could her body take?_ She reached blindly for the trash can, Cameron suddenly appearing next to her, one arm around her shoulder and the other holding the bin in front of Casey.

"Thank you," Casey mumbled.

"Casey, I know we are the best of friends but we haven't had any problems. I mean to say…I am a nurse, I can help you—that is if you want me to help," Cameron said quietly.

Casey pressed her head to the edge of the bin and groaned.

"I'm not pregnant, if that's what you mean," she mumbled after a minute.

Cameron let out a shaky laugh, "Oh good, I don't think I could handle a hormonal roommate in addition to she-devil one and two in the other room."

"Wait, you actually talk to them?"

Cameron shrugged, "I have on occasion and well after realizing how much of their bodies were plastic and their concern for me only went as far as wanting access to free birth control, I decided I was better off ignoring them. Why do you think I take the night shift?"

Casey let out a half-hearted chuckle. "Yeah, that sums up Jenn and Becca. I still try to be nice to them, but it doesn't ever work out that well."

They fell into silence. Casey kept trying to push away the nausea, until at last she pulled back and rested her head against the side of her bed. Cameron mirrored her, both of them sitting there watching the snow fall outside and not talking.

"Casey," Cameron started, "you aren't healthy."

"I'm fine, I just need to get to campus and get everything under control and get caught up on what I missed this morning. It's probably just a little flu bug. I'm a McDonald; I won't let something like the flu stop me from missing anymore classes. I'm on scholarship, I have to keep it."

She stood up, gathering her backpack and on a whim grabbed her much neglected dance bag from under her bed. Finally making it from the apartment for the first time that day, Casey still couldn't push the underlying dizziness away.

* * *

The snow finally stopped around mid-afternoon when Casey stepped out of the library. A bit more life was back in her step after her study session, she had cleared away with her professors about class that morning. The French Literature professor was just amazed that someone actually listened to his lectures, which was weird because he had the most intriguing lectures. The guy almost passed out when she told him that. Needless to say, she was able to hand in her homework.

Casey stared at the snow around Queen's campus. Snow always seemed magical to her, something that belonged in a fairy tale she tried to be in when she was younger. The way it glinted in the light and blanketed everything just made her giddy, the cold though she could do without. But she was Canadian and she kind of had to come to terms with the snow and cold, it was going to be around until at least March.

Walking around trying to recall daydreams from a long time ago, Casey found her feet directed her to the fine arts building and the dance studio. The weight of her dance bag and Derek's words echoed in her mind. A small smile, the first real one in a few days, spread across her face—dancing would nice right about now.

Climbing the down the stairs to practice studio that was open for students to use anytime of the day, Casey grinned when she noticed no one was in the room. Toeing into the locker room and changing into her leotard and leggings, Casey carried both her ballet slippers and jazz shoes back into the studio.

Slipping on the pointe shoes, Casey reached the barre and began to stretch the long lines of her body. With each movement she felt the surge of power and beauty that she admired about ballet—complete and total control of her body. She brushed from a deep plié into an arabesque. But then she stumbled and fell backwards on her bottom when her body didn't have the strength to hold her legs the way she remembered.

"Wow, hold on there," a cheery voice cut in.

Casey looked up in the mirror to see a petite woman with dark hair dressed in a black body suit rush over. She took the proffered hand and stood up, trying not to notice the tremble in her hands. She placed them on the barre to mask it.

"Thanks, I guess I'm a bit rustier then I thought."

"No worries, you are better off than me," Casey glanced down, the woman wore no shoes. Contemporary dance she figured.

"Amy Henry, physics major and closet dancer," Amy held out her hand.

Casey grinned taking the girl's hand in a shaky grip, "Casey McDonald, literature major and closet who knows."

"Oh come on, I just watched you, your talents far surpass mine. You just looked a bit tired, that's why you wobbled," Amy shrugged, propping her leg up to reach her toes.

Casey mirrored her and glanced up in the wall mirror and realized for the first time how hallow her face looked. She eyed the pale pallor of her skin, the purple under her eyes, and the way her body no longer filled out the leotard like it was supposed to. Catching Amy staring at her out of the corner of her eye, Casey plastered a grin on her face.

"Alright I confess I've been dancing since out about as long as I could walk," she said with a shy grin.

"See, thank you. Now could you take pity on a rusty dancer and tell me some good stretches? I don't want to pull anything. I have to be at the hockey game tonight and sitting down for the whole game with any pulled muscles will hurt."

Casey stiffened at the word hockey. Shaking her head and rounding her shoulders, she glanced sideways at Amy, "Of course, just follow me."

Amy beamed and moved to copy Casey's movements. Soon the both of them were flying through the basic steps to move their bodies around. It was the most liberating experience Casey had next to screaming at Derek at the beginning of the week.

Here in the dance studio, Casey's body moved and expressed itself in way she wasn't able to do anywhere else. Each movement, position, and step required absolute balance and control. She had to make the most complicated steps look as easy as breathing with a very fluid grace. It made her feel powerful and alive.

She became aware at one point that Amy stopped dancing and was just sitting watching her. Casey finally stopped when she felt the familiar surge of dizziness start to override her body and sat down to catch her breath.

"Can I pick into your brain and steal all your grace? _Please_. If I could move like that my boyfriend would never let me leave my bed," Amy jokingly begged.

Casey felt her eyes widen a bit and a blush creep up her neck. The sudden image of Derek popped into her mind. She brushed it off by giggling at Amy, "I watched you too, and I think you already have the moves."

Amy shook her head, "He's a hockey player, I could dance with all the grace of a prima donna and he still wouldn't notice."

"Oh, I know what you mean," she muttered.

"Wait, did you date someone on the hockey team too? I've never seen you before."

"No, I dated a hockey player once in high school…and I know someone on the team now."

Amy eyes beamed, "Oh who? If it was good relationship, I can tell you all about their performance on the ice and if it was bad, I can tell you all the gossip to make you feel better."

Casey couldn't stop giggling. It was almost as easy as talking to Emily, "Derek Venturi, I know Derek Venturi."

Amy's face contorted comically, "Please tell me you didn't sleep with him."

"God, no," Casey responded abruptly, much louder than she meant too.

"How do you know him then? He doesn't seem to have much interest in girls outside of—well you know."

Casey rolled her eyes, "I know alright. No, we went to high school together."

She left the step-sibling bit out, for some reason she found her tongue was unwilling to utter the word _step-brother_.

"In that case you should totally come to the game tonight. I mean that is if you don't have any plans. You can bring any boyfriends or girlfriends if that's your thing. The more—"

"I don't have any boyfriends or girlfriends," Casey cut in suddenly trying to fight the red she knew was creeping across her face now.

Amy just shrugged, "Please, someone with looks like that and no one in the picture, you've got to be joking. I'll set you up with one of the guys on the team. There are so many good looking guys to pick from."

"No!" Casey cried a bit too forcefully.

Derek would kill her if she tried to date one of his teammates again. Her mind couldn't stop the images of Derek with Sam in a head lock wrestling each other at the bottom of the stairs. She'd rather not be the cause of any unnecessary violence.

"Okay…well say that you'll come at least to the game tonight. I need more girl power with me at the games. And besides team spirit, you know go Gaels," Amy implored.

Casey looked at Amy. She had just met the girl and sure they were talking with ease, the best conversation she had in awhile but the hockey game? Derek had profusely told her not to come, she brought bad luck to the games with her Klutzilla tendencies, or whatever it was he said. She couldn't even remember now. Now here Amy was and it was really hard not to say no. She was starved for some female bonding and in the little time she had talked to Amy she liked her. It would be nice to hang out again.

"I don't know, I'll think about it. I still have a lot of homework to get done before the day is through," Casey started.

"Okay, I'll see you then! The game starts at five," Amy told her and was bounding out of the room before Casey could voice her protest.

She stood there, staring at the closed door of the locker room. _Why did she have the sinking feeling she just got conned into something?_

* * *

**A/N: **Thank you for all reviews and follows. If you any have questions, feel free to ask. I will try to answer them as soon as my time allows.


	4. The Hockey Game

**Don't own LWD.**

* * *

Derek wondered if he was always going to be face to face with the toilet before every game. He thought with as good as he was and especially now that he was on the university team, his tradition of retching everything in his stomach before every game would stop. That was a big fat nope. He leaned his head against the cool metal of the partition and waited for what he was sure was another round to surface.

_Focus on something simple_, he told himself. It was a trick Casey taught him senior year of high school, right before he and their family drove all the way to the championship game.

"Do you ever not throw up?" Casey had asked. She had stood in the doorway of the hallway bathroom; arms crossed her chest with her lip turned down in a frown.

"Get out," Derek had mumbled, trying to focus on the ceiling and not his stomach.

Casey being Casey didn't listen. Instead she waltzed right into the bathroom and leaned against the edge of the sink. Derek tried to scoot away from her but his insides hurt too much so he settled for a glare.

"If you don't leave, I'll be sure to aim on your brand new shirt there," he tried to hiss out but he was pretty sure his voice cracked instead. Man, he was pathetic like this. Hence the reason he didn't want anyone to see. Hadn't he closed the door anyway? Why was Casey there? Didn't she have someone or something else she could go bother?

"Focus on something simple," she said.

"What are you talking about?" Derek snapped back.

Casey rolled her eyes, "You're having a form of an anxiety attack. Focusing on something simple helps you calm down and spares the rest of us from the smell."

"I'm a guy. I don't do anxiety attacks. I leave that to you ladies with delicate dispositions."

"Big words there, sure you know what they mean?"

"There's the door princess, don't let it hit you on the way out," he jabbed his hand towards the door. She was starting to annoy him; couldn't she let him groan in peace?

"Whatever jerk, I'm just trying to help."

Derek eyed her from his position, "Why do you care anyway?"

Casey huffed, "I don't, and the sound of you throwing up was interrupting my studying for my calculus final. I'm trying to study before we leave. The exam is in three days."

"You're coming to the game?" he deadpanned.

Casey rolled her eyes, "George threatened to take away my phone if I didn't."

Derek snapped his jaw shut when she started speaking again.

"You can't yell at me for being there though, Marti and I came up with a plan to subtly distract the other team. It's going to be amazing. Marti's a genius. And before you even think about telling me its cheating-it's not. Its effective use of the surroundings," she gushed with an outburst of excitement.

With a strange smile, that he didn't bother to even understand, Casey left the bathroom and headed towards Marti's room. He grunted at her departure, his mind trying to recoil from the whiplash her change in attitude gave him. It was best not to question the way Casey's brain worked. But hey, if it was going to distract the other team, he was all for it.

Begrudgingly he found himself going back to Casey's words. Focus on something simple. It was worth a shot, right? Casey wasn't a keener for nothing. Despite him not wanting to admit it, Casey was smart about a lot of things.

Derek felt his mind wander; trying to zone in on simple things but the pit of nausea was still there taunting him. After losing his stomach for the third time, he recalled Casey's eyes the moment she talked about her plan. He could remember clearly their shape, exact shade of blue, how they twinkled with mischief, and how he always liked that—_wait, what? _Did he really just do that? Was he thinking about Casey, differently than her annoying bratty-self?

Derek suddenly realized his stomach stopped hurting, all urges to throw up completely gone. He stood up and looked in the mirror and swore softly. Casey's trick actually worked. He zoned in on one thing and he forgot. Derek watched his reflection in the mirror morph into confusion.

Well, that was weird.

As he made note of that, he brushed aside the incident and left the bathroom, almost running into Casey on the stairs. He gave her a small nod to which she thankfully just smirked and that was that. They never talked about it again and ever since then, when Derek felt the so nervous that he was going to lose it, Casey's face drifted back to his mind and he would go over the lines of her face. He tried not to question why it was Casey because that was a path he didn't want to go down. He just accepted it. Sometimes he wouldn't get sick at all but often times he still did, just not for as long.

Today seemed to be one of those days were nothing helped.

Why? Anytime he tried to focus on Casey's face he didn't see a happy smirk, but the hallowed worn frown her face had when he wrapped her hands in bandages the other day. It made that nasty guilty feeling creep back and that made him more nervous, which made him feel nauseous, which made him—

Derek threw up into the toilet.

"Dude, can you stop?" was a moan from somewhere else in the bathroom.

"If I could I wouldn't be in here, would I?" Derek moaned back.

James was his partner in crime when it came to pre-game jitters. Sometimes, the team captain Daniel Smith, the best left winger to ever grace Queen's, was in there too but somehow the guy managed to keep it down today.

"You ladies done yet?" Coach Epps shouted from the main locker room, "Because I swear if you don't stop I'm going to hurl myself or send in Amy!"

Derek and James both shouted, "No!" the same time a very female voice chimed, "Too late!"

"Amy alert!" was the chorus from the main locker room. There were catcalls and whistles being thrown as Amy made her way into the locker room, arms full of water bottles and other things Coach forgot to have the assistants grab.

Derek was scrambling up as fast as he could from the bathroom. Casey was the only girl to ever see him like this. There was no way in hell he was going to let another person, especially Amy, help him. She'd never let him live it down, use it as blackmail for something later down the road. She was like a second mom, except he had Nora already and he preferred her to Amy. He fought the dizziness, squared his shoulders, and forced it down.

He made it into the main room where he tried to bypass Amy who was arguing with Coach about something he could care less about. She was Coach's niece; it was how the girl got away with so much in regards to the team and being in the locker room when she shouldn't be. But Amy stopped her sentence with a wave of her hand and a toss of her black hair and cornered Derek at his locker.

"So I ran into Casey," she started not so innocently.

Derek shrugged his shoulders, trying to appear nonchalant. Inside his mind he was choking Amy. She was crazy to bring up Casey here. He specifically didn't want the team to know about her. Don't ask him why, he didn't have an answer for that. He just didn't want them to know.

"Who's Casey?" Liam McFarely piped up almost instantly.

"Damn," Derek swore under his breath. Liam had a freaky sixth sense when it came to girls. Say the name of one and he appeared instantly into the conversation.

"She went to school with Derek," Amy threw in before Derek could stop her.

At least the woman had the sense to not tell them Casey was his step-sister.

More of the locker room turned to them, trying to appear as if they weren't listening. Derek was blatantly glaring at Amy now; she looked way too pleased with herself. She painted him into a corner and now he had to deal with it. He figured this was her revenge for not getting the information out of him earlier in the week. He _really_ hoped Casey and her never became friends.

Liam leaned up against the lockers, "Does this mean things are through with you and Marissa?"

"Yeah, because Liam would just love to provide comfort for the poor girl, give a shoulder to cry on," ribbed Matt dramatically. Matt was Daniel's twin, and played right wing.

"Hey, the kinder you are, the easier it is for sympathy sex and sympathy sex is amazing," Liam protested.

"Dude, that's horrible. There are so many easier ways to pick up girls without the crying. Stay as far away from the tears as possible," Derek chuckled. "And no, Marissa and I are not through. Casey is just someone from my hometown, annoying and a keener. She isn't worth your time."

There was a groan of disappointment from Liam and the others lost interest in the conversation. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. Amy was eying him carefully, with an all too knowing look that he refused to acknowledge. She was the crazy one who brought Casey into the conversation first place.

"She coming to the game tonight," she whispered as she turned around and headed to the bathroom where James was still hiding.

Derek froze for a second, his stomach dropping to the floor. He suddenly needed to throw up again.

* * *

She still couldn't believe she convinced herself to do this. She was never much into school spirit, except for the time she spent on the cheerleading team in high school. But here she was standing by the bleachers in the arena trying to spot out the petite form of Amy in the sea of gold, red, and blue.

"Casey, over here!" she heard finally.

Casey turned to her left and saw a figure waving frantically at her. It was Amy in what looked like a hockey jersey and a Queen's hoodie. It was such a typical girlfriend uniform. She tried not to laugh, but smiled instead eager to hang out with the girl. Ignoring the usual wave of persistent dizziness, Casey shouldered on, joining Amy in a very colorful and crowded student section. Amy threw her arms around Casey into a hug, until Casey saw stars in her eyes.

"I didn't think you would make it," Amy said.

"Honestly, neither did I," Casey confessed. "I came here straight from the dance studio, so you'll have to forgive for my lack of school colors."

Amy waved her off, "Not a big deal, I have face paint in my bag, I can paint a red 'Q' on your face and we'll call it good."

Casey shrugged, "Why not?"

It took Amy three tries to get the letter painted on Casey's face which left them both giggling hysterically. Then they started chatting about their majors as they waited for the game to start, the volume of noise increasing until they had to almost shout at each other to be heard over noise.

Casey loved it. She and Amy shared lots of things in common despite her being interested in the written word and Amy in understanding how atomic structures interacted with matter and light. She even found herself getting caught up in the fervor and clamor of fans around her as the whole crowd roared when their own Gaels came sprinting out onto the ice as their names were called.

She cheered wildly as she spotted the familiar form of Derek come out onto the ice. Her heart pumped faster at the sight of messy brown hair and eyes. Casey ignored it, telling herself she was caught up in the crowd. But Derek zoned in her on instantly with a strange expression and heat in the lines of his face that made Casey feel a pink flush on her cheeks. As quickly as he looked at her he was back to his teammates, climbing into their box and ignoring her.

Amy nudged her, her eyebrow arching.

"What?" Casey shouted.

Amy's eyes twinkled, "Nothing, nothing at all."

Casey rolled her eyes and tried to mentally stop the flush that was now covering her face. She didn't know why her body was reacting like this. It was just Derek, her jerk of a step-brother. It was more to do with the fact she hadn't eaten at all. After dancing for three hours and the heat being generated by the student section, her body was just reacting to the crowd.

The game was brutal. They were playing Ottawa and it was not easy. Casey kept gripping Amy's hand each time someone was slammed into boards. She didn't understand why guys insisted on needing to be so violent. She didn't understand much of the game truthfully. She knew the basics, get the puck in the goal, and the more someone bled, the more respected they were for it.

It was a barbaric and she should have been turning her nose at it but Casey found she couldn't keep her eyes off the ice. She had too just to keep track of the puck. They moved so fast that at times it just seemed to be a blur of colors. Derek was good, she knew that much. She watched some of the others move around but Derek weaved in around others with a speed that Casey couldn't help but almost feel proud of.

"Wow," she said when the second period ended.

"I know right, this game is the best. And we are winning which is even better," Amy danced around in her seat.

"You're crazy, they are getting flayed alive out there. That one guy Morgan—that was his name, right? He got carried off the ice after that last slam into the boards!"

"It was a shoulder-check, Casey, it's called checking."

Casey waved her hand and rolled her eyes, "Whatever it's called—it's dangerous. No wonder Derek loves it so much."

"What's that about Derek?"

"Nothing," Casey said all too quickly.

"Sure."

"No, really—

"The clock is starting, tell me later," Amy said turning her head back to the ice.

Casey huffed and fought off another blush. She didn't understand what was wrong with her. The heat though on her face wouldn't stop. She looked out when she heard the name Venturi being called angrily and watched Derek being shoved off the ice swearing profusely. If the cries from the crowd were any indication, no one liked the penalty that was just called. Casey watched him as he sat down and his head hanging low, but she could tell he was still furious.

How Derek knew she was looking at him, she'll didn't know because she and Amy sitting directly behind the team box but one minute she was staring at the back of his head and the next his face was turned back to looking at her. The expression he wore was strange, the anger almost gone, but there was still fire in his eyes. It made her want to back away in fear of getting burned.

The noise around her dulled as the rushing of blood suddenly seemed to be the only sound she could hear and Derek the only thing she could see. It made her dizzy, and she almost choked on the thought. The moment ended almost as suddenly as it begun, when Derek began rapidly blinking. Casey realized his Coach was calling him back onto the ice. His time in the box was over.

Casey tried to calm her body down, but the dizziness didn't stop. Instead she could faintly feel the twinges of blackness creeping across her eyes. Body on autopilot, Casey threw her head between her knees before panic could fully set in. She was not going to get sick here, she refused to.

Amy was suddenly in her ear, "Casey, everything alright?"

Casey nodded her head from her lap and counted down from ten. Pushing aside the panic and dizziness, she sat up and brushed her hair back.

"Sorry, about that. It must have been all the heat from the crowd,"

"You sure? Your face is about the color of the ice at the moment," Amy said slowly.

"I'll be fine in a minute, come on we're missing the game," Casey insisted.

_I'm a strong independent woman and I can do this_, she muttered to herself. Schooling her body into the well trained routine she had perfected over the last couple weeks she smiled at Amy and returned to watching the game. But it took all her energy to focus and the clocked seemed to drag by. The pounding returned until the roar in her ears drowned out the people around her. She had to get out of the there.

"Amy, I need to catch a breather. I'll be right back." Casey half shouted into her ear.

Amy nodded and Casey dashed for the exit, praying she wouldn't get sick before she reached a trash can.

* * *

He couldn't find her. Who was he kidding, why would she look for him? He'd like to think his charm was enough to draw her in but this was Casey. She'd rather choke on dog food than spend time with him. That was his plan to begin with, stay as far away from Casey McDonald as possible.

He was like some love sick fool looking for her in the crowd of people. Marissa refused to come to his games, told him hockey was boring. It irked Derek that she said that but they had crazy sex so he didn't let it bug him too much. Then again, Casey didn't really go for hockey which begged the question why did she even show up?

Derek groaned as he trekked into the locker and clambered tiredly into a hot shower. Stupid Casey always making him think about things when he didn't want to. How did she do it? He really needed to learn how to stop caring about it.

The hot water pounded on his skin, hitting some sensitive spots which he was sure would be some new bruises by tomorrow morning. That last check in the boards did a number on him. Grabbing a towel and making his way back to his locker; Derek was lost in his own thoughts when the door of the locker room slammed open.

Everyone stopped and turned to the door and the sounds coming from the door. Amy stood there, the color drained from her face, loud sobs and what Derek assumed were screams but Amy was trying to catch her breath at the same time so it came out in ugly screeches.

But the sounds weren't what made his body chill over though. It was the dark smear of red on her hands and shirt that scared the hell out of him. Derek's eyes nearly popped out his head as James and Coach Epps ran over trying to calm the frantic woman down but she wasn't having anything to do with it. Derek and the entire locker room stood there watching the scene unfold. A few of the guys were so shocked they came of the shower completely nude in full view of Amy.

"Amy whose blood is this?" James was frantically trying to get her to answer.

The woman couldn't speak, but she certainly kept trying her body shaking as she tried to open her mouth to form words, only sobs and croaks coming out.

"I don't un-un-derstand. She said s-s-he just needed some air. And—then, and then she didn't come back. But I wanted to finish the game because you guys were tied…. So I did…why didn't I go look for her sooner?"

An uneasy sense of dread struck Derek. Casey wasn't there at the end of the game. He shoved a pair of pants on and stepped over to Amy, the pit in his stomach growing. Amy looked at him as if she realized he was there for the first time. Her face was almost ashen now and her lips started to tremble all over again.

Derek knew, whatever the hell happened, it was Casey. His head spun and he had to gulp several breathes of air just to right the room again.

"Where is she?" he spoke very carefully, trying not to let his voice crack.

"She's in the women's bathroom, with Coach's wife. I've already called for an ambulance."

Derek didn't hear the last bit; he was already rushing out the door ignoring the shouts and calls of his teammates. Barefoot and bare-chested, Derek sprinted down the hall, a fury of emotions growing with each step. He could only string one coherent thought together as he reached the crowd of people gathered around the women's bathroom—_for all love of everything, be alive._

* * *

**A/N: Did I leave you on the edge of the cliff, waiting to see how far the drop is? Yes, I did. **


	5. Queen Klutzilla

He didn't have to guess what bathroom Casey was in because of the growing crowd gathered around the women's restroom, nearest the locker rooms was a dead giveaway. If he wasn't in such a panic he would have made note to tease Casey about all the attention she garnered when all this blew over, if it blew over. Instead he just pushed forward trying to ignore everything but finding Casey.

Cursing at people to get the away from the door, he tried pushing his was way through but people were telling him to back the hell away. It was a mass hysteria of people trying to see what was going on, phones out trying to take pictures and others trying to get people to back off. He was almost coming close to blows with an older guy when suddenly the crowd parted. Several of his teammates, including Amy, and Coach Epps descended on the crowd booming at them. Everyone backed several paces after that and Derek glowering at all of them, raced inside with Amy and Coach hot on his tail.

Derek found himself not being able to breathe, his body moving but his mind completely numb. Claire, Coach's wife, was sitting on the ground, stone faced and red eyed pressing what looked like a navy jacket to a wound on Casey's head. Derek froze for a second at the sight of her. Casey's skin was ashen and he could see how her collar bones peaked more than they should. She was lying so still on the ground hair sprawled around her head, the only indication she was still alive was the slight rise of her chest.

It was the shaky rise and fall of her chest that woke him from shock and instantly he was kneeling by Casey's side, placing his hand over the wound Claire was keeping pressure on. He didn't notice the cold seeping into his bare feet from the tile; he was focused solely on Casey's face. She was too still.

"What happened?" he croaked out.

"She was standing at the sink washing her hands, and I was drying mine, when I heard this sickening thud. I turned around and she was on the ground, blood already pooling around her head." Claire tried to wipe her bloodied hands on her pants, only to realize her pants were stained as well. Claire's voice was steady and unwavering, but her hands shook. "She must have passed out and hit her head on the way down."

Derek let a small sigh of relief escape. Knocked out and a cut on the head, he could handle.

"Casey, Casey, Casey," he muttered shaking his head.

Of all the crazy thoughts running through his head, having klutzilla strike again was the tamest of the scenarios. But man, this was so Casey, forever trying to steal the show from him. Screw her being plain klutzilla, she was going to be upgraded to queen klutzilla and he was never going to let her live it down for as long as she lived. He stuffed away the worst case scenarios his mind, glad all the images from every horror movie he watched didn't come true. Coach leaned down and pulled his wife into his arms.

Claire frowned at Derek, as they all waited tensely for the medics. Derek was still doing his best to look only at Casey's face. If he only looked at her face, it almost looked like she was sleeping and it was almost enough to trick his heart to beat at a normal pace. There was nothing more they could do but wait. And no one dared speak a word.

"Where are they?" Amy muttered finally, dancing around on her toes by the door.

Derek internally was agreeing with her and tried to ignore the frown he thought Claire was giving him. But he realized it wasn't him she was frowning at but Casey.

"She shouldn't be bleeding still. I know head wounds bleed more than others, but she's been bleeding too long."

Derek tensed, the freezing of his muscles apparent with no shirt covering him. He pressed his hand harder over the wound and snapped his eyes to Claire. He opened his mouth to speak but the words died in his throat when three medics burst into the now crowded bathroom.

All of sudden it seemed as if Derek wasn't in the room, but very far away. He felt like he was watching the scene from the safety of his worn blue recliner back at his apartment and he was stuck watching a movie that he knew wouldn't have a happy ending. He watched the medics start to panic about Casey's blood loss, quickly strapping Casey to gurney and racing towards the ambulance when his mind seemed catch up and tell him to get in the damn thing with them. There was no way he was letting Casey out of his sight.

* * *

She felt like she was floating or was it being crushed? Casey didn't know. She was willing herself to open her eyes but it was too bright. The light stung her eyes and making her want to curl in on herself but something was stopping her. Noises all around her threw her off balance. It sounded like she was standing next to the washing machine or maybe she was underwater?

No, had to be the washing machine, the air around her smelt like home. It wouldn't smell that wonderful if she was underwater. She sighed contently at the notion, trying to commit the scent to memory so it would chase away the ache on her head. Being home always made pain easier to handle. But the pain didn't agree with her plan and instead of a dull ache it grew almost immediately in white hot throbbing pain that made Casey want to double over.

She tried to scream but the sound came out wrong, garbled and coarse. Casey opened her eyes to try to understand why her mouth wasn't working. She was greeted with a startling white wall. Or maybe it was a ceiling?

"Casey?" her name was being called.

Something tugged at her and Casey felt her hand being wrapped up and being squeezed tightly. The warm smell returned and Casey could almost feel a smile on her lip and the pain in her head ebb away. Her eyes flittered close again. She missed home. University wasn't like home. She tried to focus on the smell mulling over the woodsy musk. Something was off about the smell as she tried to pinpoint it. It was home, wasn't it?

Sudden clarity peeked through her haze of pain. No, that was Derek's deodorant. He always wore the same kind.

Derek?

Casey tried to understand why that name was so important. Memories were filling her mind at a sluggish pace but were all distorted. She couldn't make sense of it. The more she pushed to understand the images in her mind, the more the pain grew. It pulsated until all at once Casey was sure her heart stopped. The images suddenly fell into the correct order and she remembered everything.

The hockey game! The bathroom, she needed to get back to Amy, see what the score was. Did Derek win? How could have she forgotten Derek? She tried to wake her arms to tell them to move, she needed to get back to the game.

"Hold down her arms," she heard a different voice shout.

Heavy weights were thrust down on her arms and Derek's smell invaded her nose again.

"Don't let her go and try to stop her from moving," the voice kept going on.

Why did she have to stop moving? Casey wiggled against the weight, but the weight didn't budge. A sharp prick hit her arm and Casey winced. All of a sudden the sound of the washing machine was back. Did Derek do his own laundry? As the sound grew louder, Casey told herself she would have to tease him about that over dinner. Or maybe she would take a nap first. But wait, wasn't she still in the bathroom? No, she had to be on her bed. She was too sleepy to be anywhere else. Yes, as she drifted into oblivion, she had to be on her bed after all it smelled like home.

* * *

It was an annoying beeping that woke her. Casey groaned trying to think of something to throw at the sound; she didn't want to wake up. But firm warmth on her hand stopped her.

"Derek?" Casey mumbled.

"No, sweetie," Nora spoke.

Casey shifted in the bed towards her mother's voice as the room came into view. She realized that she was laying in a hospital bed the stench of sterilizing products and drab colors on the walls providing concrete proof of her new surroundings. George and her mother were sitting to the right of her bed, almost to the point on being on top of the bed, her hand tight in Nora's grip.

She frowned trying to understand what she was doing there. Nora's face was blotchy, evidence she had been crying. George was sitting next to his wife, a hand firmly on Nora's knee and another tightly gripping Casey's blanket. Casey blinked at them with big doe eyes, before rolling her head around the room only to find on the left side of her bed was Derek, curled up in a chair fast asleep, wearing no shoes and a jacket with the name of the hospital she assumed she was in embroidered on it. She tried to roll her eyes at the sight but found she was too tired.

"I don't understand, what happened?" she turned back to Nora and George.

"You hit your head sweetie," Nora said quickly.

Casey was gave them a blank look.

"Casey, what was the last thing you remember?" George asked.

She frowned trying to recall everything. For some reason the only coherent thought she could come up with was something about a washing machine and the bathroom at the hockey arena. Slowly images fit themselves together in a correct timeline and she tensed up in the bed. There was a span of blackness in her memory and she knew what that meant. _She passed out._

"I needed to use the restroom. I walked into the bathroom and that was it. It's all fuzzy after that," Casey said.

She hoped her tone didn't wobble; it was a sure sign of her lying. A soft noise of protest came from her left and Casey turned to see Derek wide awake, looking her with I-know-you-are-lying face. Casey flushed and turned back to Nora and George.

They were frowning. Apparently they noticed too. Casey stiffened a bit; she never made for a good liar. But she didn't want them to know what really happened. She was too embarrassed.

Nora leaned over and hugged her tightly. "Its okay honey, whenever you want to talk, I'll be here just like I always am."

Casey let herself sag into her mom's hug, reveling in the comfort that only mothers' could give. For one blissful moment she felt like she was a little girl again whose problems were solved with just the warmth of a hug. Tears pricked her eyes and she saw Nora see them but pretend they weren't there. If Nora had her way, she would stay there until Casey confessed and then would wrap her in bubble wrap so it wouldn't happen again. Most likely force her to go home too.

George tugged at Nora gently, "Come on let's go alert the nurse's station that she is awake."

He leaned over and squeezed Casey's hand and ran a hand through his graying hair, the only thing betraying his worry. Casey smiled meekly at his sign of affection and stayed like that until both of them were out of the door. The moment the door clicked shut she turned as fast she as could to Derek.

He didn't look too happy either. It was one of few times she could recall him be worried and even rarer directed at her. But it just wasn't concern on his face, she saw another emotion there too, one she was much more familiar with-anger. Why was he mad at her? She wanted to spit at him as say when did he care, but he was here and obviously had called her their parents to be here for her. So he must care on some level. He held her gaze for a moment before his face shifted into his usual nonchalance with accompanying smirk. It made her blood boil.

"You do know that this brings klutzilla to an entirely new level,"

"Der-ek, shut up."

Derek scooted forward and produced a helmet from behind his chair and threw it on her lap. It was neon yellow with stickers all over it. She vaguely recognized it as Marti's. How he managed to get his hands on it she didn't know.

"Hang onto that Klutzilla, you are going to need that."

Casey attempted to throw it at him, but found with as close as he was, she had no strength in her arms. And it made her head burn. The helmet clattered to the ground and Casey hissed, bringing her hand up to the source of pain. There on her left temple she felt a white bandage and realized her head was wrapped in gauze.

"If you took any pictures and plan on using them for blackmail, I swear I'm going to go into your apartment and steal all your clothes."

"Come on, why would I want to take a picture of you? Your face would just break the camera," he joked.

Casey glared at him. She opened her mouth to snap back but shut it as she caught the door open out of the corner of her eye. In walked an older gentleman whose ebony skin was in stark contrast of his white jacket. A nurse in mutli-colored scrubs followed in after him. Casey turned her attention to the doctor and watched the nurse out of her peripheral move around to silently take her vitals. She caught Derek grab the helmet and stuff it behind the chair again.

The Doctor grabbed a chair and wheeled it over to Casey's bedside and extended his hand.

"Dr. James Howard," he smiled warmly.

Casey shook it hesitantly and responded back. Dr. Howard took the clipboard from the nurse who finished her job and left the room quietly. Dr. Howard turned to Derek, who straightened under the scrutiny, "You're the emergency contact, right?"

Derek nodded.

"You came with her in the ambulance?"

Casey gaped at Derek, she didn't know that. All she could remember was the bathroom and then waking up in the hospital. Dr. Howard focused back on her.

"Can I assume the two nervous looking people outside the room are your parents?"

"It's my mom and step-father."

"They aren't listed as emergency contacts on your records; therefore I don't have to have them in here, unless you want them to. Would you like them in here?"

Casey turned to the ceiling and gulped. She couldn't face them, not yet.

"No," she squeaked.

"Would you like-," Dr. Howard turned to Derek, "I'm sorry, I don't know your name?"

"Derek Venturi."

"Would you like Derek to stay?"

"Yes," she said almost instantly. Apparently despite being upset with him, her brain had other ideas.

"Alright then, Ms. McDonald, you've put yourself in a very dangerous place and you were extremely lucky tonight there were people around to catch your fall. If you had been by yourself, there was a good chance you wouldn't be in this nice room but filling a slab in the morgue. And I think you know that, don't you?"

Casey shut her eyes and nodded slowly. She was lucky. She knew she passed out and apparently hit her head. If she had been at the apartment and hit her head, who knows what would have happened to her. Jenn and Becca wouldn't have cared, that's for sure. Past experience already told her that.

A hand wrapped around hers and she turned to see Derek had scooted closer to the bed, hand firmly wrapped over hers, his thumb running over her knuckles, eyes focused straight on the doctor. Casey breathed in his scent and breathed out a sigh of relief. Her anger with him all but disappeared.

"According to the your physical from the beginning of the school year and the vitals we've taken now, you've lost a drastic amount of weight, close to thirty pounds. Combine that with the potassium we had to inject into your system, and other essential vitamins and minerals, you've done a number to yourself, young lady."

Casey winced and felt Derek squeeze her hand. Dr. Howard's warm smile was gone and replaced with a stern frown.

"Have you been having dizzy spells at all?"

Casey bit her lip and nodded.

"Extreme tiredness? Not keeping down food? Sluggish? Forgetful?"

Dr. Howard kept firing question after question which Casey found herself nodding to. Each one made her feel more ashamed than the last. As her shame grew, so did the strength of Derek's grip on her hand, until it was almost too painful. Casey tried to withdraw her hand but Derek wouldn't let her, but he did loosen his grip.

"Was this incident the first time you passed out?" was the final question.

Casey felt Derek shift his eyes from the doctor to her, his face carved into a very stoic mask. But she had known him long enough to see raw emotion underneath and it wasn't pretty. Casey wanted to crawl under her comforter and never come back out again.

"No," she whispered.

In fact this was the third time. The first timed she passed out, Becca and Jenn dragged her outside, stole her phone and keys and locked her out for the night. Determined to never let it happen again, Casey avoided her apartment as much as possible. The second time it happened, she was back in the stacks looking for a rare book for a paper. She woke up after only being out for thirty seconds and thankfully no one saw her. She went home that night and made sure she looked up how to take care of herself if she was ever feeling faint and she hadn't passed out again until tonight.

Dr. Howard pursed his lips, "You've got to take better care of yourself Ms. McDonald. You've pushed yourself to become anemic. So when you passed out earlier this evening and sliced open your head, it bled even more then it should. You had to have a blood transfusion, you lost so much blood. You can't go on like this. I've had the nurses create an eating guideline that I want you to follow."

Casey frowned, "But I can do it myself. I'm an adult."

"Adult's don't almost starve themselves," he deadpanned.

She couldn't think of something smart to say back to that.

* * *

A/N: Mmh, sorry for last week's cliff hanger but it was just the perfect place to end the chapter. Thank you so much for all the reviews and comments. I love reading your reactions and insights. So keep them coming, they are very helpful. Until next time. ;)


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